Kevin comes to visit Jeremy and Jean in California, and Jean’s body decides it’s the perfect time for him to experience a heat.

Bakugou Katsuki is a camboy trying to make ends meet after he suddenly lost his job and most of his hearing. Touya's just looking for a good time.

"It's just basic coping skills," Jason scoffs. "Have none of you ever met someone with ADHD before?"

Usually when Dean films a gangbang, it's all alphas from top (everyone else) to bottom (him). Today's shoot involves a second bottom, a popular omega with a pretty face and absolutely no acting skills. They don't exactly hit it off... right up until they absolutely do.

It's a generally accepted fact amongst the members of the bat family that Alfred's cookies are the absolute best and that the last cookie is the best of all. The last cookie is coveted and fought over. The last cookie is important. When the Justice League needs to summon the Ghost King and every offering has been rejected, what else is there to try?

Five times Tim Drake gained an unrequited soul bond and the one time he didn't.

Jason knows his thighs are thick as hell ever since the Lazarus Pit cured his childhood malnutrition and he put on fat and muscle as he was able to grow up to his full potential. It makes finding pants that fit a bitch and a half. So, when he feels like making himself feel nice he wears thigh highs. Of course that's right when Dick and Tim have to drop by.

AU in which Anakin is a prostitute on Coruscant, and a mechanic, with an arrangement with the clones. * Master Koon has heard of the young, Force-Sensitive human selling sex in the lower levels. More important, he's heard he dealt with the clones, who notoriously don't have any credits to pay with. And the young commander of his batallion needs to relax a bit...

Trapped and on the verge of being used as a human sacrifice, Jango's fellow prisoner, Obi-Wan Kenobi, managers to talk their captors into an alternate plan which puts Jango far closer to the jedi than he'd ever expected to be.

“If you don’t do something,” Jango threatens, “I'm going to kill you.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and did his best to press the anxiety he was feeling away. His hands were steady as he adjusted the settings of the communcation set-up of the small vessel he was currently piloting. He purposefully set the comm to audio only on his side. He hadn't been a padawan for long, but if there was one thing he'd learned during his missions with Master Jinn, it was that it was rare for anyone, especially politicians, to take a padawan seriously. He assumed the same held true for the leader of an enemy empire.

Every step Sanji took, he wanted to die. Every step he took, gods, he felt alive. It was strange, odd, uncomfortable, glorious, his mate's arm around his shoulders, all burly muscle, tucking Sanji under impressive biceps and up against just-as-impressive obliques. You'd think Zoro was an alpha to look at him on a normal day. Broad, head high as always - could he have walked any other way if he tried? - dripping confidence, exuding well-earned ego. And his lover, Sanji, so much narrower, several inches shorter with their carefully chosen shoes, head a little ducked as he smoked through a slim little black filter. "I think I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack." "Good thing I'm here to give you mouth to mouth, cutie."

None of them called him the "ship's omega." It wasn't... really like that. A lot of ships had omega crewmates whose station was defined by their secondary sex, or at the least who joined up knowing what their job was among a shipful of pirates out to sea for weeks at a time. Zoro was not that. He wasn't a friend with benefits or a glorified servant or even one of the so-called Crewman Os who had their own jobs and stations but lay down and made their bodies available when a crewmate needed it. He was just... Zoro.

Law still remembered his first whiff of the first omega to capture his attention. He was no fool, of course - he was a doctor, and he lived that title - knew that omega meant nothing in the realms of personality and power, no more than woman did. But the combination, so clearly Mugiwara's right hand at his beck and call and just as clearly his own man, was staggering. Confusing. God, it had nearly bowled him over.

“It’s a myth.” “It’s not.” “It absolutely is.” “It is not,” Jesper groans. “Well, I've never done it-“ “I’ve never been on time to anything ever, darling, but that doesn’t mean punctuality isn’t possible.”

Tentatively, Suguru swipes his fingers through the slickness on his inner thighs. It’s thick - definitely too thick to be piss - and slightly tacky, sticking to his fingers when he pulls them apart. Inching his fingertips up, he follows the trail of wetness. His fingers graze just below his balls, meeting with a slit that definitely wasn’t there this morning... Pressing his fingers to the slit, he spreads them, revealing a tight, twitching hole and a little pink nub just below the apex of his new folds. A pussy… he has a pussy… Suguru ingests a curse that has some interesting side effects.

Kon is in desperate need of a bit of relaxation. Maybe his method of choice is a little unconventional, but hey, getting fucked until even his Kryptonian biology is exhausted is a harmless way to get there.

Jason has an offer for Tim.

Tim Drake stops stalking Gotham’s nocturnal wildlife when she goes to college. Unfortunately, they don’t return the favor.

“No one told me what prayers to recite,” Johnny forces out, trying to summon the well of anger that usually burns within him when he enters the church. “‘Spose they’re not used to trussin’ up somethin’ that can talk back.” Father Simon says nothing, his footsteps echoing out on the stone; growing louder as he approaches. “I can baa for ya if that’d make it more familiar,” he spits, some remnant of himself flaring and he strains his arms, struggling in vain against the ropes binding his wrists. He follows the hem of his robe as he circles him; his keen eyes heavy as they study the sigils on his skin until he finally comes to a stop behind him. He’s not even to see his death. Johnny curses himself as only now does grief come at being denied a final look into his eyes. Even now, you can’t help but chase sin.

They call Ghost a tease for never posting videos or pictures with him fucking more than his hand; some even offer to buy him a fleshlight, just so they can get the chance to watch his cock in action. None of them know the truth. Ghost's cock doesn't belong to him. Not when he can't use it properly.

“I dunno,” Hizashi shrugged. “He’s clearly not the worst guy in the world, considering who he goes after.” “I heard he’s pretty brutal,” he pointed out, not disagreeing. “Some of those people deserved brutal,” he said and decided to push a little more. “Did you hear about his last victim? That pharmaceutical director using experimental drugs on his son?” “Daughter,” Shouta corrected mindlessly before stiffening. Hizashi grinned. Gotcha.

The window is open - Hawks can hear the sounds of the busy city thrumming below his penthouse apartment and the cool breeze fluttering the curtains. It feels almost magical to be here, bathed in warmth in the bedroom, only the moon and the low lights either side of the bed illuminating Dabi, staples glinting gold where they catch the light. He’s so very beautiful when he’s like this, breathing a little harder than usual, sweat making the high points of his cheeks glow. Hawks catches Dabi’s gaze as his fingers brush against his spot and he lets out a breathy moan. Dabi makes the same ‘come hither’ gesture, smirking - Hawks wants to drag him so close that their skin melts together and they become one person. He thinks he’d finally be content, then. Dabi pulls his fingers out with a sordid, wet squelch and Hawks wants to punch him instead.

Zoro would thank Luffy for introducing him to Law all those months back, if he ever dared to tell him why in the first place that is, but their mutual friend didn't have to know what kind of relationship they had developed. Only him and Law would ever know what happened behind that door everytime Zoro would visit. (or Law and Zoro having a rough session in the BDSM room)

Depending on who you ask, the Reaper is A) a criminal B) a hero C) a lunatic or D) all of the above.

Sometimes Yuri forgets that Otabek is older than him. And not just in the "has four years of seniors on him" way or the "his old-ass body is going to crap out of competition before Yuri’s does" way or the "doesn’t have to go to fucking tutoring everyday because he graduated, the lucky bastard" way. Because, like, yeah, all of that’s true, but on any given day it doesn’t particularly matter. They mostly do all of the same stuff, and know all of the same people, and have the same job, so, like, what’s the big deal, right? Tongues. Tongues are the big deal.

Facebook. Three and a half years after he first set eyes on Jared Padalecki and felt some integral part of his brain melt, Jensen finds out that Jared is into guys. Through Facebook.

The Winchesters have been subjected to a lot of things in the name of hunting, but the result of a spell-gone-wrong on their latest case is still pretty high on Dean's weird scale. While their father is out searching for a way to undo the magic, Dean's stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, trying to deal with his bitchy teenage brother and his own increasingly un-brotherly feelings toward him. Who'd have thought Sammy growing a pair of giant bird wings would be the least of his problems?

His hand against Jensen's stomach gets the soldier flinching again, at least twice as hard as the one that jolts him when Jared tweezes the first splinter of elysium off of the tray and pierces the skin right at Jensen's hip with it.

Far and away, being an omega is the least interesting thing about Jared.

Hunters live in a world of blood and darkness, so when Dean gets turned into a vampire, not much changes for the Winchester brothers. Well, except for being on the lam from a Hunter’s Guild that wants them dead, sneaking around the world of seedy underground monster bars and sketchy voodoo practitioners in search of a fabled ‘cure’ and the little fact that Dean can’t seem to stop himself from molesting his brother when he feeds (and sometimes when he doesn’t). But as the lines between what they were raised to be and what they are get blurrier, Sam and Dean will have to decide how high a price they are willing to pay for a life in the light and what they’re willing to do for one another.

Sam and Dean have always been oddities among the dragonriders; the youngest man to Impress a Bronze dragon in a hundred years and a boy who turned his back on the riders to become a dragon healer instead. But when fate steps in and chooses a far different path for Sam, the brothers and all the Weyrs of Pern will have to come to terms with much greater changes in their traditions.

It's just a thing, a funny little anomaly in his DNA that he has to compensate for. Realistically, there are people out there who are allergic to peanuts and strawberries and gluten - and thus, practically two-thirds of the world's joy - so comparatively, Jensen's always figured he had it easy. But that was before Jared Padalecki.

Jason Todd is a hunter, one of the best in the business. Dick Grayson is an incubus, one of the most powerful there is. Somehow, they still manage to be something resembling...friends.

Three days after he signs his death sentence to Palmetto State, five after Andrew Minyard knocks him breathless to the ground, Neil's gaze snaps to the locker room mirror and stares, frozen, at the word threat scrawled along his spine in terrifying bold. All in all, he isn’t thrilled about the situation this puts him in, but based off the negative connotation, it isn’t one-sided, either. On the bright side, at least this means his soulmate doesn’t harbor any delusions of grandeur.

You want to fuck Neil, Andrew says, like it's nothing.

Andrew and the Idiotic, Thirsty, Ill-advised, Very Off-Limits Crush on his College Roommate's Younger Brother.

Jason, on a mission, gets captured. Tim, working undercover, goes to get him out. There's...a side benefit.

He’d been pacing across the deck, considering in which direction to search next, when a great beam of light suddenly shot up into the sky far ahead; a beacon, a herald, a return. Surely, such a powerful thing could only come from one source, one which had to be- Zuko collapsed to the deck before he even had a chance to demand if Uncle Iroh knew what it meant.

Jason's had worse heats. Don't ask him when— but he's sure he's had them.

“Oh, come on. You know I’m half-Kryptonian. I can hear your heartbeat. I could smell you getting wet like a slut and making a mess of your boxers when you saw Tim’s cock.” “Watch your mouth, Lex-brat,” Jason growls dangerously. “I'm pretty sure I'm not the slut here.” Kon gives him the finger. “Come sit on my face and watch it yourself, coward.”

A series to follow Apollo, Midnighter, Slade and Jason pucking and fucking. Follow Apollo, Midnighter, Jason Todd, Slade Wilson, Mark Grayson, and Dick Grayson through the world of this lovely hockey AU. A world where all the hockey fandom tropes meet DC! Goalie nesting, winner's room, kneeling, poaching... if we can dream it up, it'll be here!

“Baby, you have no idea how this is going to play out,” Tim murmurs, voice a low rumble that makes Jason shiver with arousal. He casts Tim a dark, challenging look, and growls back, “Try me.”

Dick pulled a face at the new paperwork. “Why do we gotta lie on this stuff, anyway? People aren’t gonna know what I can do exactly when I’m Robin...” “But they’ll suspect,” Bruce answered, typing something on his computer. “This way, if they think Richard Grayson isn’t all that impressive of a metahuman, it’s more cover for Robin flying through Gotham.” “Hmph.” --- In an AU where small, token superpowers are common enough to have their own optional line on forms alongside name and age, it's totally coincidence for Batman to have picked up a circus kid capable of flight. And a tire thief with super strength. And a- well, alright, the pint-sized photographer with not-actual-invisibility makes for a pattern, but even so. (He still tells the Justice League he doesn't allow metahumans in Gotham, though. Somehow with a straight face.) Series

Two days after they received word of a Frey girl joining Robb Stark at Moat Cailin and riding off north with him, a ship from the Stormlands arrived, and Tyrion went down personally to meet it. Or rather, to meet the man coming off of it: one Selwyn of Tarth.

To be clear, Cassie is Wonder Girl. Very much so is she Wonder Girl. She likes being called that; she likes being called “she”. She likes being Amazon-adjacent enough to almost count as a sister to Themyscira. She doesn’t always like . . . other things associated with being Wonder Girl, though. Or even being a girl at all. Anyway, that’s why she just broke two pairs of scissors trying to get her stupid fucking hair to just fucking cut already in one of Titans Tower’s communal bathrooms. One of the girls’ communal bathrooms, which isn’t really helping how she feels right now.

They leave the office, Mai pretending that all her senses aren’t full of Zuko’s warm, spicy scent, and he keeps looking worried. She wonders if it’s this he’s worried about, now that she’s thinking about it. They agreed they’d share their next cycles together, but again, they haven’t really talked about it. They can talk about it now, Mai thinks. Unfortunately, that means now they actually have to talk about it.

The crochet code used by the troopers in Per My Last Scarf by wanderingjedihistorian. Simple in concept (each letter is represented by a duo of two stitches) Contains logistics, the letters, and a few example phrase patterns!

Using this Crochet Code by ThatAloneOne, with some modifications, I translated Lewis Carroll's poem "Jaberwocky" and made a scarf.

When Robbie's vision cleared, his father, King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, lay unconscious upon the floor in a puddle of spilt wine. Robb Stark lived. Many things followed as a result - some impressive, several insane, and quite a few straight out of tales of the Age of Heroes. Perhaps the only unfortunate one among them was Joffrey remaining on the Iron Throne, his worst impulses and tendencies only barely held in check by those around him. Until the day he goes too far, and gets hit over the head with a pitcher of wine as a result.